


Extreme Measures

by sarathechimera



Series: FE3H Wank Week 2020 [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: FE3H Wank Week, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, Masturbation, NSFW, Object Penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarathechimera/pseuds/sarathechimera
Summary: Under immense pressure to learn to wield the Sword of the Creator, Byleth resorts to drastic and creative measures to master the holy relic.
Series: FE3H Wank Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872448
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Wank Week 2020





	Extreme Measures

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the ((checks notes)) yes, the most ridiculous thing I've ever written. I'm honestly not sure which of the two prompt words this fulfills... let me know in the comments!
> 
> Part 6 for FE3H Wank Week 2020 - the prompt is "Desecration/Worship"

_“You’ve got to be one with your weapon on a different level,”_ Catherine had said. _“You’ve got to feel it inside of you.”_

Byleth had been working tirelessly with the holy relic but, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to master it. After the initial rush of power in the holy mausoleum, the sword refused to cooperate. She could never tell when it would spring to life in her hand, glowing red as energy and power pulsed through it like blood or remain dormant and cold. 

Even when she could get it to work, the segmented whip activated inconsistently and the rolls of her wrist that worked one time would not the next. Never mind that her technique with the whip was poor and inaccurate having never worked with a weapon like it before. 

Again, she centered her stance at one end of the secluded grove of trees. It was sheltered within the rocky foothills far enough away from Garreg Mach that, should something go wrong, at least she would be the only casualty. So said Seteth. 

The sword was fixed upright, the tip plunged into the dirt after her last failed attempt to control it. Struggling to push aside her irritation and maintain a semblance of composure, she breathed deeply and evenly. When she felt as balanced possible, she took hold of the hilt and pulled the weapon free. 

The boulder across the clearing was her target and the goal was simple, extend the blade and cleave the rock in two. Her determined breath streamed hot from her nostrils as she tightened her grip on the hilt and twisted her wrist with a silent command to awaken. 

Success! She could feel the relic lurch to life without looking. Burning, radiant energy flowed through her palm, pulsing in and out like the breath in her lungs. Her senses leapt to life, heightened by the link to the relic. She could hear a mouse chewing on a seed beyond the rocks and taste the pollen on the wind. Her vision, eagle-like in focus, could note the dirt collecting on the boulder across from her. 

Now if she could just… With a hollow thud the links separated and hit the ground as the power winked out of the sword and the glow disappeared. Frustration bubbled in her gut and her lips twisted sharply. 

She could hear it now. Seteth hadn’t left her alone this month and his constant reminders about the power of this weapon and her monumental responsibility were beginning to weigh on her. Even Rhea’s faith in her was beginning to waiver. Why couldn’t she get this stupid thing to work?

With that last thought, she flung the lifeless hilt on the ground. It hit and bounced, re-coiling as it did until the segments were once again a single saw-toothed blade. It has reformed so effortlessly that she felt mocked. How ridiculous to be mocked by an inanimate object – a tool no less! 

Not only was she at her wit’s end, the absence of that power flowing through her limbs from the active sword left her feeling hollow. Emptier than she could remember feeling before. As she stared at the sword, willing it to divulge it’s secrets she wondered, _“What now?”_

Reviewing everything that Catherine had said, Byleth was certain that she was doing everything exactly as instructed. What was she missing? 

_“You’ve got to be one with your weapon on a different level,”_ Catherine had said. _“You’ve got to feel it inside of you.”_

A thought suddenly occurred to her and she stopped her pacing to stare at the sword. An idea was forming in her mind. A crazy idea. A desperate idea. She’d sworn that she wouldn’t return to the monastery without mastering the sword today, but she was nowhere close, and she had class to teach in the morning. 

Color began to spread on her pale cheeks as she scanned the landscape around her. Everyone knew she was practicing with the Sword of the Creator out here and everyone knew how fatal an accident with the holy relic could be. No one would dare come close enough to see her. 

Byleth approached the sword timidly, like it was a snake poised to strike her at any moment for what she intended to do. Had she truly tried everything else? Anxiety pulsed through her as she bent to pick up the sword and her mouth went desert-dry as she examined the pummel and grip. The point at the button was concerning though. 

Was she really going to try this? 

She had sworn that she’d do whatever it took. She’d meant it too. Determination set in and before her resolve could falter or she could talk herself out of it she removed her cloak and spread it out hastily on the ground. Then, she shimmed out of her shorts. 

“Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think,” she repeated to herself softly as she settled on her back on her cloak. Thankfully, there was enough fabric to drape it over her lap before she laid back. Even covered as she was, the embarrassment of what she was about to do kept her feeling exposed. 

She was going to master this relic even if she had to fuck it to do it. 

Nerves made it difficult to get enough saliva in her mouth but, as she tested her slit with her fingers she found that she was more than wet enough to make this work. 

Taking a deep breath and fixing her eyes up at the sky she pulled the lips of her sex apart with one hand and struggled to get the sword positioned properly without catching the cloak in the teeth of the blade. She could feel the metal button, cold against her opening, it made her jerk and quiver. 

Gently, with an excessive care, wincing and breathing she sheathed the pummel inside of herself. Her inner lips burned as they stretched but with a steady pace she pushed through. The bulbous pummel pushed against her inner walls, stretching her with each breath she took. Soft groans mingled with the controlled breath she blew through her lips and she reminded herself to relax while she waited for something to happen. Should something feel different? Should something, anything be happening? 

Nothing was happening.

Feeling exceptionally foolish and thoroughly humiliated, Byleth began to slowly withdraw the sword but as the wide rim of the pummel dragged along her slick walls to push and stretch at her slit the pain she’d felt before changed into something that burned and as the relic massaged her that burning ignited into a throbbing pleasure in her core. Clearing her mind to follow instinct, she began to pump back and forth, the ridges of the pummel continuing to push and stretch and roll inside of her. Her velvety walls clenched around it, clinging to it as it rocked within her. The burning of her cheeks deepened, and her breath became labored as she forgot herself in the mounting ecstasy within her. 

Her eyes slipped shut as pleasure overtook her. While her pace remained steady, almost reverent, she could feel her climax coiling tightly inside of her. Slowly, she became aware of the individual beads of sweat as they formed on her brow, the singular voice of a bird in a flock singing in the nearby woods, the heat and vibration in the afternoon air. Byleth’s eyes popped open as the grip in her hand sprang to life and even as her pupils dilated in the sunlight she could still see a lone sparrow high above disappear into the clouds. 

With her senses bursting to life, the movement between her legs intensified and her core throbbed in time with the energy pulsing from the sword into her hand. Whimpering, whining sounds accompanied her breath and she closed her eyes to focus on the intense pressure and pleasure threatening to overtake her. Suddenly and without warning the dam broke and she felt like every cell in her body burst into flame. She screamed as she came, her back arching sharply as her muscles strained to the breaking point. 

Over the sound of her jagged breath, she heard the segments of the blade clink as they fell apart. Looking under the cloak she found the links in a heap between her legs and she chuckled as she flopped back onto her back. 

“So, it was good for you too huh?” 

Puffing out her breath, Byleth was now posed with the question of how to remove the sword from her vagina. 

**_____________________________________**

“I didn’t know you could look so smug,” said Catherine having caught Byleth coming through the gates of the monastery sometime later. The mercenary turned professor had the Sword of the Creator resting teeth up on her shoulder and a cocksure swagger in her step. “I take it my advice helped?” 

Byleth gave the knight the slightest of grins as the Sword of the Creator began to burn with light where it rested on her shoulder. To complete the demonstration, the links released to tumble down to brush the floor before springing back up without so much as a move from the wielder. 

Catherine looked genuinely impressed. “I’d say so! Seteth’s going to want a demonstration in the morning. Do you think you’re ready for that?” 

Byleth nodded. “No problem. We’ve reached an understanding, haven’t we?” She squeezed the grip of the sword in her hand. 

“That’s the spirit! Come join me for a celebration drink.” 

Byleth shook her head and continued her walk through the main hall. “No thanks. I’m headed to bed. I’m beat.”


End file.
